Clean Slate
by CocoSushi
Summary: Five years after the island, in the shadows of the concrete jungle, Ralph and Arianna struggle to rebuild. 1990 film-verse. Sequel to Dirty Game!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is the mini-sequel/extended epilogue to my fanfic  Dirty Game. If you haven't read it, I highly suggest you do before continuing on to Clean Slate. Like DG, this story will touch on mature themes ( **trigger warning** : mentions of sexual assault, rape). Please proceed with caution. The second part will be coming soon. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Clean Slate

"If you desire healing,  
let yourself fall ill  
let yourself fall ill."

\- Rumi

++ PART ONE

Snow had just begun to fall by the time the train from Garrison, New York pulled into Grand Central station. With the holiday season underway, traffic in and out of the city was reaching new heights. Today, just like every other day in the past week, families had piled out of the train car to look at the Saks Fifth window displays and take pictures in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree.

In the third train car, tucked away from the holiday cheer, a dark-haired man in his early twenties was fast asleep. He was wearing a gray cadet uniform and clutching a backpack to his chest.

"Sir," an MTA agent came over and tapped him on the arm. "We've arrived at Grand Central Terminal. I'm gonna have to ask you to disembark."

The young man awoke with a jolt. He sat up straight and rubbed his eyes furiously, as though trying to shake off the remnants of a bad dream.

"Yeah, uh, sorry," he told the agent. "I'll be right out."

He exited the train and found himself on the crowded concourse. He had been to New York City several times, but Grand Central's ceiling never ceased to amaze him. He stared up at the celestial designs, so taken by the constellations of Orion and Pisces that he hardly noticed the young woman come up behind him.

"Hey there, stranger."

The man turned and looked at her in surprise. "Arianna!" he exclaimed and embraced her. She had aged marvelously well over the past few years. Her face was narrower and she was beautiful, despite hardly wearing any makeup. She had cut her hair, now sporting a chic shoulder length bob. Peaking out from under her black pea coat, Ralph could make out the ARN part of BARNARD that was marked on her fitted crewneck sweater. Under which, she wore a neatly pressed white button down – still pristine and put together, even after all this time.

"Ralph," she sighed, returning the hug. "It's good to see you."

Arianna was the only person Ralph had kept in touch with after the island. They didn't see or even speak to each other all that often. But every now and then, after a particularly bad nightmare, he found himself calling her in the middle of the night. There were plenty of people he could talk to – his mother, his friends from school. But none of them would ever completely understand. Not like Arianna.

"You look good," he told her. He meant it. Arianna, despite everything that happened, was stronger and even more stunning than ever before.

"You too, soldier," she joked, sending him a small wink. Around them, Ralph was suddenly aware of the double glances from onlookers who were impressed by his cadet uniform.

He rubbed his neck, blushing. "Sorry, it takes a while to get here from West Point so I didn't have time to change," he rushed to explain. "I have some extra clothes in my backpack, if you want me to–"

" _Relax_ , I was only teasing," Arianna said, linking her arm through his. "You're lucky you have me to save you from the lions." She nudged her head toward to twittering teenage girls who were standing about a yard away, waiting for their train with their mothers. They kept glancing at Ralph shyly and giggling to each other behind their hands.

Ralph looked away, embarrassed. "Oh. Yeah, I suppose that's a good thing. Where did you say we were eating again?" he said, eager to get out of there.

"There's a place that I really like a few blocks away from my place, if you're in the mood for greasy bacon and diner coffee," Arianna offered. "Do you mind going uptown?"

"No, no, all that sounds amazing."

Ralph listened to Arianna chat the entire subway ride to Morningside Heights. She talked about her classes and the friends she was making. She even complained about her roommate ad nauseam, just like any normal college student would. Ralph listened, contributed to the conversation, and was genuinely happy for the life she was making for herself in New York City. However, it kind of unnerved him – how well adjusted she seemed now, compared to those times when she had called him, sobbing, over the years.

The topic of Arianna's roommate carried them through the time it took to get seated at the diner and order food (for Ralph, a burger; for Arianna, a Greek omelet). Then they had moved on to movies and music. By the time they had both moved on to their second cups of coffee, it became evident that they had exhausted all shallow conversation and it was time to wade into trickier waters: the island.

"So," Ralph cleared his throat as he stirred sugar into his coffee. "Why not stay in California? Why Barnard?"

"It's nice, to be at an all-girls school," she went on. "I'm fine being with men, I mean, _obviously_." She made sure to reach over and give Ralph's hand a reassuring squeeze. "But after that whole ordeal, it's feels safer to be surrounded by other women."

"Yes, that's completely understandable," Ralph said, squeezing her hand back. He didn't even realize that he had held it much longer than he intended to.

"It's New York, of course. And, well, I don't know," Arianna shrugged. "California is great. I just needed to get away from it all. The sun, the ocean, the palm trees…" Her voice drifted off. Both of them were thinking of another beach, miles and miles away. "You know," she admitted. "It took me months before I could walk on sand again."

"I know," he answered. "Sometimes, I still see them. The bodies…" He shuddered before finishing his thought.

Arianna changed the subject before either of them could dwell on the image. "And you?" she asked. "Why West Point? I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you still decided to continue with military school, but I am."

"It's all I've ever known, really. I came from a military family. This is the only thing I could see myself doing with my life," Ralph answered. "Well, I suppose your father would be proud of me, being the Dean of the Academy and all."

At the mention of her father, Arianna squirmed. "Yes, Daddy would be very proud. But he's not the Dean anymore. Retired ages ago."

"Oh?" Ralph's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You never told me that."

She stared at her coffee. "I suppose I didn't… He took it hard, you know. Everything that happened to us. He still blames himself for putting us on that plane." Then she let out a short, sardonic laugh. "I swear, he sees a therapist more often than I do."

Ralph also laughed, taking a bite out of his burger to hide his discomfort. He couldn't imagine a man like Dean Lovejoy losing it like that. But then he remembered how he had been the first time he had seen them just after they were rescued. He had been a mess. They all were.

* * *

 _Five years earlier_

Warren B. Lovejoy burst through the doors of the hospital. He had received the call three hours ago and had been on the road since. The normally reserved Dean of the most prestigious military academy in the country was positively hysterical.

"My daughter," he yelled to the first nurse he could find. He was breathless and his hands were shaking. "Please, she was on the island. I need to see her–"

The nurse glanced at her clipboard. "As yes, Arianna Lovejoy–"

"Yes," he snapped impatiently. "The only girl who was on that plane. Where is she? Which room?"

Looking between the clipboard and Lovejoy, the nurse hesitated. She looked over his shoulder at her superior for backup.

The superior, a stern-looking woman with graying hair, approached Lovejoy. "Sir, my name is Natasha and I'm the Nurse Manager of this unit. If you follow me, please, I'll take you to your daughter."

Lovejoy looked as though he were about to fall over himself in gratitude. "Thank you," he said as he followed her down the brightly lit hallway. "Thank you. Thank you." As Natasha led him down the ward, he continued to ask her the questions of a worried parent. "Is she ill? Did she catch some kind of tropical disease while she was over there? Was she starving?"

"No, Mr. Lovejoy, your daughter has not contracted any disease. Like the others, she has lost some weight but nothing that a few weeks on a nutritionally-fortified diet can't fix."

Lovejoy breathed out a sigh of relief. "That was a concern with the other parents," he rushed to elaborate. "I've been meeting with them these past few weeks, as we were organizing the search."

"Yes, sir. I've been speaking with all the parents as they arrive." Natasha stopped at the edge of the hallway. She gestured down the hall and said, "Your daughter's room is down that way. She's resting."

"That's good, I'll just –" Lovejoy made to move down the hallway, but the nurse quickly held out her arm to stop him.

"Mr. Lovejoy, if I could just speak with you before you go in," Natasha said, her voice grave.

His face paled, as he feared the worst. "What is it?" he demanded.

"There is no easy way to say this, but your daughter has been through a lot," she started to explain. "I've talked with her briefly about it, and I can tell that she's a fighter. With some time, and some medical attention, I'm confident that she'll make a full recovery."

"What?" A million questions came to Lovejoy's mind. "Has she been hurt? Will she lose an arm? _Well_? What is it?"

"Your daughter has sustained some minor physical injuries. Bruises, small lacerations." Natasha glanced into the hospital room and said, after a cautious pause, "These injuries are consistent with sexual assault. Do you understand?"

It took a while for the words to sink in. "Sexual assault," Lovejoy repeated, dumbstruck. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes. "But… but…" he struggled. "But how? Who?"

Natasha pursed her lips, knowing that what she was about to say could very well kill him. She lowered her voice and told him, gently, "While she was on the island, Mr. Lovejoy. By one of your students."

Warren Lovejoy felt his blood run cold. It was as though alarm bells were wringing in his ears. "No," he muttered in disbelief. "No, it can't be."

He forced his way into the hospital room. Natasha ran after him, saying, "Sir, if you would please calm down so as to not disturb the patient…"

But he was no longer listening. His eyes locked onto Arianna who was fast asleep on the cot. He threw himself on his knees beside her, the tears falling freely down his face.

"My little girl," he wept. "My little girl." He reached for her hand and saw that her arm was hooked up to an IV. She looked so thin and weak and tiny in her hospital gown. Then he saw it: the bruises in the shape of fingertips all over her neck. "No," he choked, the sobs wracking through his body. "No, no, not my little girl."

In the cot, Arianna began to stir. She opened her eyes slowly. She was still drowsy from the medication when she whispered "Daddy?"

"Yes, darling, I'm here," he cooed through his sobs. "My angel… Good lord, who did this to you?"

Arianna opened her mouth to speak, but the medicine quickly pulled her back under. She drifted once more to sleep.

"No…" Lovejoy resisted the urge to shake her awake. He got back to his feet and exited the hospital room, roughly rubbing the tears from his eyes.

Outside, Natasha was waiting. "Mr. Lovejoy, I can't imagine how hard this must be for you, but right now, your daughter needs–"

He cut her off, "Which one of those bastards did it? I bet you know, don't you?"

Natasha looked horrified at the accusation. "No, sir, please, if you could just calm down for a minute. You're not thinking clearly–"

Lovejoy continued to storm down the hallway, looking for the others. Natasha rushed after him, pleading for him to stop. "I bet it was Merridew," he raved to himself. "I've seen the way he looks at her. I'm gonna kill that kid."

Following the rumble of the crowd, Lovejoy found his way to the open ward where the hospital was keeping the rest of the boys.

"Dean Lovejoy!" a surprised voice exclaimed. It was one of the mothers with whom he had been working the past several weeks to find the kids. At the moment, Lovejoy was too outraged to even remember her name. He pushed past her, his eyes scanning the ward for the target of his anger. He spotted him towards the back; fresh from a bath and also dressed in a hospital robe, that head of blond hair was unmistakable.

"Merridew!" he roared, storming in his direction.

The rest of the ward went silent.

A man with striking resemblance to Jack stood up and introduced himself to Lovejoy as Jack's father. "Dean Lovejoy, it is truly great to see it again." He reached out a hand, even tried to be friendly and make a joke. "Although, I do wish it had been under better circumstances."

Lovejoy shoved him out of the way in order to face Jack. "It was you wasn't it?" he growled.

Perched next to him on the hospital bed, Jack's stepmother drew her arm around him, looking horrified. "Dean Lovejoy, please, after all he's been through–"

"And what about my daughter? Huh? What about her?" he screamed, looking Jack straight in the eye. He pointed a damning finger at him. "It was you. I know it was you!"

Natasha had caught up to Lovejoy. She implored him, breathlessly, "Sir, for the last time, come with me or I'm calling security."

 _"Answer me!"_ Lovejoy roared, ignoring Natasha completely.

On the cot, Jack was frozen in fright. He didn't dare say a word.

Behind him, the security guards appeared and began to drag him a way while the crowd of parents and children watched. "No! No!" he tried to shake them off. By the time they forced him to the ground, he was crying violently. "He raped my daughter!" Lovejoy wailed. "He raped my daughter!"

He kept screaming this phrase as they dragged him out of the ward. Behind him, a petrified silence.

"Son," Jack's dad finally whispered, as though he were already dreading the answer. "Is it true?"

The boy couldn't bring himself to answer. He made eye contact with Roger, who was staring blankly at him from the cot on the other side of the room. For the second time that day, Jack began to weep.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed into his stepmother's shoulder. "I'm so fucking sorry."

All around, mothers and fathers held their children close, careful to divert their eyes.

* * *

Back in the diner, Ralph was still thinking about Dean Lovejoy. "I remember seeing him at the hospital. He was a wreck," he said, thinking back to the sight of the security guards drag him out of the ward. It had been a heart-wrenching sight, to see a grown man break down like that. Years later, Lovejoy's voice continued to haunt him: _he raped my daughter! He raped my daughter!_

"Well," Arianna cleared her throat. "Still kind of is actually." She shifted a bit in her seat, before admitting, "We don't really talk all that much anymore. It had all been touch much, with the publicity and the investigation. It really put a strain on our relationship."

"Yeah, that time really sucked," Ralph said. He also had an awful time for at least a year after the news broke. Tabloids everywhere reporting on the group of school kids who had been found on a previously uninhabited island. For a time, Ralph recognized his own face on the magazines covers by the checkout counters. He had started to go out wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.

What had originally started as a heartwarming segment on the Today Show quickly turned into media frenzy. How could they resist? Every tabloid published vicious rumors of cannibalism, of Dionysian rites, a maddening descent into primitivism. That, of course, had not been that far from the truth. But Ralph preferred to not be constantly reminded of it each time he turned on daytime television.

Along with Lovejoy and some of the other families, Ralph's parents had hired a press agent to keep them out of the news as long as possible. The fact that they had all been minors helped, for it was still considered ill faith to slander children. Once the journalists had gotten word about Arianna's presence on the island, however, they started speculating. What was the daughter of the dean of the military academy doing on the island, and what exactly had happened to her while she was there?

"I didn't leave the house for at least three months," Arianna sighed. "It would have all just died down if I had just waited it out for a few weeks. But no, I just _had_ to make an official statement."

Ralph had also made his own statement. He had testified to witnessing the murderers of Simon and Piggy (whose real name turned out to be Patrick, something he always regretting not asking while he had been alive). Poor Arianna had been forced to give, in excruciating detail, an account of everything Jack and Roger had done to her. Ralph had been in the room when she had been questioned. _How many times did you have intercourse? Was that before or after you had consensual intercourse? Did you have a relationship with the subject before the alleged incident?_ By the way they had been asking the questions, you would have thought that Arianna had been the perpetrator not the victim!

The details of the investigation were never disclosed, but once word got around that it had been underway, the rumors once again circulated. Each time an article was published, the rumors took an even uglier form. People all around the world had some kind of opinion about what they thought had happened. Even after they had escaped the island, the children had to go to battle in order to get through the American news cycle unscathed.

"I wonder where they are now," Ralph thought out loud.

"Not in jail, obviously," Arianna scoffed.

Ralph grimaced. They were talking about Jack and Roger.

The investigation, the hours of interviews, the return trips to the island by the detective teams to retrieve evidence, turned out to be all for nothing. It turned out as they had all been minors, and the uninhabited island had no laws, technically no punishable crime had taken place.

"An absolute tragedy, what you kids had to go through," one of their lawyers had explained to them. "But unfortunately, that's human nature." With that, Jack and Roger walked free and the investigation was scrapped.

"But we're still here," Ralph offered. "Eating together, in a Manhattan diner of all places, after five years."

"Five fucking years…" Arianna murmured, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Cheers to that." She raised her coffee mug, and Ralph did the same. They had been done eating for hours, just sitting at the same booth. Outside the window, the snow had continued to fall even harder. It was starting to look like an actual blizzard.

Ralph let out a low whistle. "I don't know if I'll be able to make it back to West Point through all of that."

Arianna paused. She cocked her head to the side, smiling wryly. "I have some beer at my place, just a few blocks from here." Then realizing how that might be interpreted, she quickly added, "My roommate's at her parents' place for the weekend. Worse comes to worse you can always take her bed."

In the snow-covered streets, the wind started to howl. It was a tempting proposition. "I'd love to," he accepted.

After paying for the meal, they trudged out into the blizzard. The wind was so strong that Ralph found himself putting an arm around Arianna to keep her from blowing away. He couldn't deny the chemistry he now felt between them. They had both survived they island. They understood each other's demons.

 _I will keep you warm_ , he found himself vowing to her in his head. _I will keep you safe. I won't let you blow away._

"Here we are," Arianna said, leading him until her building. Ralph followed her up the winding staircase to her apartment on the third floor, and watched as she unlocked the door. "It's not much," she said as she unwound the scarf from her neck and hung up her coat. "But for New York, the rent is fairly cheap."

Ralph looked around her apartment as he unzipped his jacket. It was small, with a tiny kitchen and an even tinier common area. He poked his head into the doorway on the right and saw Arianna's bedroom, which had to be the size of a closet. While he was taking his shoes, Arianna was going around and lighting candles and piling up books and throwing dirty clothes into the laundry basket.

"No, it's nice," Ralph smiled. The heat was on full blast and the white walls looked yellow in the candlelight. "It's really cozy."

"It is, isn't it?" Arianna smiled back. She gestured to her bed, as there wasn't any room in her apartment for a couch. "Have a seat and I'll bring you a drink. Beer? Wine?"

"Beer, please," Ralph said as he sunk down onto her twin bed. Unlike other college girls, Arianna didn't have any pictures hanging up with her family or her friends. The walls of her bedroom were mostly blank, except for a print of Monet's water lilies and a map of the world – one of those maps where you can scratch off where you've been. Except for parts of North America, the map was mostly empty.

Arianna walked into the room and saw Ralph looking. "I've been wanting to travel for a while now. There's just that thing with the planes," she explained.

"Right," Ralph nodded. "Planes." He himself had only been on a plane twice since the island, and he nearly had hyperventilated each time.

"One day, I suppose," she sighed, glancing at the map wistfully. Then she handed Ralph a bottle of Sam Adams. For herself, she had poured a glass of merlot. Ralph made room for her on the bed and she sat down cross-legged beside him. They sipped their drinks for several moments in companionable silence.

"Five years," Ralph finally said, staring into his lap.

"I know." Arianna reached over to rest her hand over his.

He looked over at her, and realized how close she was leaning into him. Was he imagining this? No, he couldn't be. He felt his mouth go dry.

All of a sudden, it was like they were on that beach again. Right after they had made a run for their lives. He could hear the helicopter propeller in the distance. He could taste the sea breeze.

"You're the only one," he whispered, his voice cracking. "The only one…"

His shoulders began to shake. He broke down.

"Oh, Ralph!"

Arianna wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to cry into her chest as long as he needed. Ralph knew that he would be embarrassed about this later, but he couldn't help himself. Arianna _knew._ She knew all the things that he couldn't bring himself to explain to his mother. To Heather, a girl he had dated for an entire year. Arianna knew and he didn't have to say a thing. He needed her.

After a few minutes, when Ralph's sobs quieted, Arianna drew back to hold his face in her hands. "You're okay," she said gently. "You're alive. You're here." She shifted her weight and, involuntarily, Ralph's hand shot up to grab hers, holding it to her cheek. Their dark eyes met. The bond – she felt it too.

Ralph was frozen, struggling with his need to connect with another human for the first time in what felt like years. "Arianna…"

"Shh…" She hushed him. Then she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Ralph wanted to stop himself but he couldn't. He kissed her back.

Arianna didn't hold back. She climbed into his lap, deepened the kiss. Ralph last his hands in her dark hair. She saw him in ways that nobody else ever would. He _needed_ her.

Her hands deftly undid the buttons of his military jacket. His white undershirt was next to go. Ralph reached for the hem of her Barnard sweater. She raised her arms willingly. He pulled it over her head, getting a good look at her face in the candlelight. Her eyes were closed.

Ralph started to panic. _She doesn't see me_.

"Wait," he said abruptly. "Wait."

"What is it?"

Ralph hesitated. "I want to make sure that… that you're sure."

Arianna looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He felt his cheeks grow hot with shame. He thought back to the island, to Jack and Roger and all the times he couldn't protect her.

"Please," he said. "Don't do this just because of me."

He half-expected her to start getting dressed, to kick him out of her room. But instead, Arianna wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss.

"Don't worry, Ralph," she whispered. "I need this too."

He made love to her slowly. He was taking her pain away, and she his. They clung to each other as if the bed was a life raft, the only thing keeping them afloat in a violent sea. He watched her ecstasy, heard her cries, and it was as though all her demons had been exorcised.

It wasn't romantic love that they had between them. Perhaps it was something even deeper than that. A mutual understanding of things that could never be brought to light.

They woke up the next morning in each other's arms. Ralph was holding her around the waist. Even though he was getting overheated under the covers and her hair was all over his face, she was the most magical thing he had ever seen.

"Ralph?" Arianna said, groggy from sleep. "Are you awake?"

"Just woke up," he said, resting his chin against her shoulder. She was quiet for several moments, which worried him. "Are we…" he began tentatively. "Are we okay?"

"I think we are," she replied.

"Just so you know, I didn't come here to… to do _that_ ," he explained awkwardly.

"I know."

Ralph swallowed. "Do you regret it?" He had to ask.

"No," she sounded pretty confident about it. "Not in the slightest."

They got dressed, almost as though they had made love a thousand times before. Arianna brewed coffee and made him toast while Ralph used her computer to check the train schedules to take him back to West Point.

They ate breakfast in bed. Outside, the snow had stopped falling but over a foot had already collected on the ground. The sun had hardly started to rise and the snowplows had yet to reach Arianna's street. A white blanket stretched all over New York City, yet to be touched.

"A clean slate," Arianna said as she stared out the window at the sidewalk below.

"What?"

"That's why I came here. A fresh start. To no longer be Arianna, who survived the island. Arianna, with PTSD. To just be me."

"That makes sense," Ralph answered. "Is it working out for you so far?"

She sighed. "In some ways, yes. But in other ways, well, you know…"

He did. No matter how far life took him for the island, nothing would ever come close to a reset. The island would always be dwelling at the pit of psyche. In the darkest corner of the jungle – a stake mounted with the head of a pig.

"That's why you need release sometimes," she went on, smiling self-consciously at the memory of the previous night. "So all the bad stuff doesn't destroy you."

Ralph didn't have an answer for that. He just reached over and held her hand. Every inch of him felt lighter, and he hoped Arianna felt the same. She must have, because she was still smiling.

After a long, pregnant moment, he opened his mouth to say something – anything. Before he could, she silenced him with a kiss. For Arianna was divinely human, and she made him feel like he was in heaven and like he was grounded all at once.

There wasn't any one word to describe what he was feeling. The closest thing he could come up with was _catharsis_.


	2. Chapter 2

++ PART TWO

For the past four weekends in a row, Arianna had woken up to the sight of Ralph in her bed. The first time it had happened, she had thought it would be the last. Not that she didn't enjoy the sex – far from it. However, she could sense that this weekly tryst they had going between with them was becoming a crutch. Another coping mechanism. A replacement for therapy.

This was far more fun than therapy, she had to admit. Beside her, Ralph was still sound asleep. They were both naked under the covers. She had a nice view of his toned biceps, those broad shoulders, that lean torso. The young Colonel had grown up quite a lot over the past five years. Arianna could think of a thousand, less attractive ways to deal with her problems.

Ralph was becoming such a fixture that Arianna inevitably had to introduce him to her roommate Melanie, who had giggled knowingly when she heard Arianna lock the bedroom door. Melanie had even given Ralph a nickname; when he wasn't around, she referred to him as the Soldier.

"I bet he's a real first class private, eh?" she had joked.

Arianna had rolled her eyes but laughed. It was nice to have some girlfriends to make sexual cracks _à la Sex and the City_ with every now and then.

Last week, when they had been all eating lunch together in the tiny kitchen, Melanie had asked how they met. She and Ralph just stared at each other, and Arianna had said the first lie she could think of.

"Summer camp," she'd blurted out.

Ralph, bless his heart, just nodded beside her. "Yeah, summer camp," he concurred, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Ages and ages ago."

A bunch of kids out in the wilderness with minimal adult supervision? It was close enough to the truth.

Regardless of the actual circumstances regarding how they met, they were at this weird point in their friendship where they were sleeping together but not really dating. Arianna dreaded the conversation that was to come – that of the define-the-relationship variety.

On the bed, Ralph began to stir. Still half-asleep, he reached for her and pulled her into his chest. Arianna sighed happily and settled into his arms. She was happy to delay that conversation for as long as possible. For now, all she wanted was to postpone reality.

"I should leave soon," he mumbled into the nape of her neck.

Arianna shook her head. "Relax, the next train doesn't leave for another two hours."

Successfully convinced, Ralph stayed in bed with her for the next hour. They spent that time talking about the movie they had seen the night before and making plans for the next time they'd see each other. Eventually, they made love once last time and by the time they finished, Ralph had to get dressed.

Arianna pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants then sat down on her bed to watch him get ready. He wasn't in uniform this time around, this time wearing a simple blue polo and fitted jeans. He fished around for his socks in the bed sheets, sitting down beside her to pull them back on his feet. As he tied his sneakers, Arianna studied his profile intently. She admired his dark defined features, the length of his eyelashes.

 _Careful, girl_ , she told herself. _Soon you'll want to keep him._

"So," Ralph patted his knees and got to his feet. "I'll see you next Saturday?"

"I'll be counting down the days," she teased.

Ralph grinned and pecked her lightly on the lips. Then Arianna got up to show him out.

"See you soon," he said as he headed down the staircase. She resisted the urge to watch him leave and shut the door. She was starting to fall for him for real, and it wasn't good.

Arianna had been in two somewhat serious relationships in the past – neither of them lasting more than six months. In both of them, she had been so guarded, unable to share herself with them completely. Both guys had sensed that she had been keeping things from them, her darkest secrets from the island becoming an insurmountable wall. And after both breakups, Arianna had been overcome with such a sense of hopelessness. It felt as though she could never be close to another human being again.

Then Ralph came around. By some miracle, they had both found themselves all the way across the country in New York. And for the first time, it felt like someone was truly seeing her. Not just the tragedy. Not just the façade. Seeing _her_ – Arianna Lovejoy, and the deepest, ugliest parts of her.

Ralph was damaged too. Was it possible that their broken edges could somehow fit together?

A series of knocks broke Arianna from her reverie. It brought a smile to her face. She opened the door, thinking that Ralph had probably left his gloves behind again. "Did you forget your–"

But Arianna wasn't able to finish her thought. Leaning against her doorframe was the very last person she expected to see.

The past few years had not been kind to him. He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and even baggier jeans. His blond hair was cropped much shorter than it had been on the island. But that face – Arianna often saw it in her dreams.

A million unhappy memories flooded her mind at once. She found her vocal chords were constricted with fear. After several moments, she finally regained her ability to speak.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she demanded. Her voice was shaking.

"Nice to see you, too, Princess," Jack replied, tucking his cigarette behind his ear.

Arianna could feel the panic rising, all of the progress she had made in recent months unraveling. All of a sudden, it was like she was fifteen again and they had never been rescued.

"How did you find me?" she hissed.

Jack hadn't changed, and that was clear when he shot back sarcastically, "There's this thing called the Internet. You should look into it some time."

She wanted to scream. She had moved to New York to escape her demons. And now, out of the blue, the biggest demon of them all had somehow tracked her down.

"You shouldn't be here. Get out or I'll call the police," she threatened, mentally filing through all the legal motions she'd tried to use against him all those years. Surely there had to be a restraining order in there somewhere?

"Relax, relax," Jack said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I know I shouldn't have come here unannounced. But I had to see you."

"Why the fuck are you here, Jack?" she asked again.

He sighed. "Look, you have every right to hate me. But believe me when I say I'm not the same guy. I came all this way because I want to make things right. So, please, Arianna," he begged. "Please, just hear me out."

Arianna got a good look at his face. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes bloodshot, as though he hadn't gotten any sleep. He looked weary, and so much older than the last time she had seen him. Most of all, he seemed sincere – enough for Arianna to let her guard down just a little bit.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. Then she opened the door all the way and let him inside.

Jack looked around and then sat himself at her kitchen table. "Nice digs," he said awkwardly.

"Yeah," Arianna grunted in response. "Want some water?"

She couldn't believe she was doing this. Letting her rapist inside her apartment and offering him a drink!

"That would be great, thanks," Jack said.

She poured them both a glass and thrust his roughly at him from across the table.

"Go on," she said once he had a sip. "Tell me what you came here for."

Jack stared into his water glass for a long time before answering. "I was watching the news a few nights ago. Stupid talk shows, all that stuff. Then I stumbled on this documentary series on Dateline or something." He looked up at Arianna and said, "It was about us. Just when I thought the world had forgotten, it was there. Every awful thing I'd done, broadcasted on late night TV."

He started to breakdown right in front of her. Arianna just watched him, dumbfounded. But she didn't offer any words of comfort. As far as she was concerned, Arianna didn't owe Jack anything.

"They were spewing these terrible conspiracy theories about what really happened on that island," Jack sniffled once he pulled himself together. "Really disgusting shit… Then they mentioned you, and all the awful things that could have happened to you. I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Het met her eyes then. "I know I can't take back what happened. But I'm sorry. About everything. Please just know that."

But Arianna still harbored too much hate to forgive him all that easily. "Thank you for telling me that, Jack," she said, coldly. "But after five years, I think that's what they call too little, too late."

" _I know_ ," Jack sighed, defeated. "I know. I truly am sorry – for what it's worth."

His unaccepted apology hung heavy between them for a long time. Arianna could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. She wanted to kick him out before he could see her crying.

"There is another reason why I came," he said, breaking the silence. Arianna stared back at him, curious. He went on, "They dug up some footage that the paparazzi had collected from us over the years. Shit that's never been aired before. And I saw… I saw…" He struggled to finish the next sentence. "There was a girl who looked an awful lot like you heading into a family planning clinic."

At his words, Arianna felt her heart leap to her throat.

Jack leaned in towards her, his eyes imploring her for the truth. "Please, Arianna, I have to know," he whispered. "Did you… Did you get pregnant while you were on the island?"

* * *

 _Five years earlier_

She had been shuttled from doctor to doctor of various specialties for the past few weeks – a pediatrician, then a child psychologist. Now she was sitting in the chair in the Dr. Wang's office. The gynecologist was a serious, but kind woman in her late forties; and she was staring at Arianna, waiting for a response.

"Arianna," she asked her gently. "Did you hear what I just told you?"

"Y-yes," Arianna stammered. Still processing the meaning of the words. "I'm… pregnant."

"You're about seven weeks along, so it's still well within the time frame should you decide to go with – with the second option."

The second option – Dr. Wang had made sure to discuss this with Arianna before she took the pregnancy test. "The decision to have an abortion would be completely up to you," she had explained. "And it would be understandable, given your circumstances."

Arianna was now a person with special "circumstances." Meaning that people always felt like they had to walk on eggshells around her, otherwise she might break.

She was still hung up on the fact that she'd had a person growing inside of her for weeks and she hadn't even noticed.

"I don't…" she whispered, the tears pouring down her cheeks. "I don't even know who the father is."

Jack or Roger? She couldn't decide which was worse. The prospect of bringing either of their monstrous children into the world was so hard to stomach that she began to violently weep.

"It's okay, Arianna," Dr. Wang soothed, passing her a box of tissues. "Whatever you decide, everything will be okay."

Even though they had been back from the island for the past three weeks, new struggles continued to present themselves. First the newspapers, now a baby. This living nightmare – when would it ever come to an end?

After what felt like an eternity, Arianna finally stopped sobbing long enough to blow her nose and regain her composure.

"I can't do it," she said, shaking her head. "I can't keep this baby."

Dr. Wang nodded in understanding. "I think you're making a smart, and very brave decision, Arianna." Then she retrieved some brochures from her desk drawer and started to explain, in very technical and non-human terms, how the procedure was going to work.

"As you're still in an early stage of your pregnancy, you can take a pill right here in our clinic. This pill is called mifepristone, and the way it works…"

Arianna was no longer listening. Her hand wandered to her abdomen, right above the little life that was growing. The little life was half her, she realized. It was a heart-wrenching thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and reminded herself, _I'm doing the right thing_.

After describing the scientific mechanisms of the pill, Dr. Wang went on to describe the logistics. "Now, in the state of California, we don't require parental consent for patients under the age of 18. I want you to remember that whatever we discuss in here will stay between us. So if you have any concerns, any questions at all, don't be afraid to ask me. Alright?"

"Yes, Dr. Wang," Arianna nodded. She felt numb.

"Once again, abortion is a safe procedure. However…" Before going on, she hesitated. Arianna looked up in apprehension. "However," Dr. Wang continued, "It can be emotionally arduous for some women. You're a remarkably resilient girl, Arianna, but I don't want you to think that you have to go through this alone." She paused then. "Is there anyone, a parent perhaps, with whom you can–"

" _No_ ," Arianna interrupted her so forcefully that she caused Dr. Wang to look up at her in alarm. She rushed to elaborate, "I mean, that I'm sure. I have a therapist and – anyway, I don't need to talk to my dad about this. I'm sure."

If Dr. Wang had a reply to that, she kept it to herself. She opened up the clinic's calendar on her computer and said, "In that case, let's schedule an appointment for you sometime next week… Would you be available on…"

She began to list some dates. Arianna took the earliest one available. That less time she had to think about her decision, the less time before the guilt could sink in.

* * *

"Did you get pregnant while you were on the island?" Jack repeated the question.

Arianna just stared back at him, her mouth wide open in shock.

"Jack, I –"

"Please," he begged, the desperation clear on his face. "Please, just tell me."

" _Yes_ ," she blurted out. The confession felt liberating and suffocating all at once. She started to cry. "Yes, I was pregnant."

At this, Jack leaned back abruptly in his chair. He held a fist against his mouth to hold back his own agony.

"Was it… Was it mine?" he asked, his voice small.

"I don't know," Arianna admitted. "Probably. I had an abortion. I don't know. I just wanted–" She could hardly get the sentence out before breaking down into sobs. "I just wanted it to go away."

"Fucking Christ," he was crying again. "If I had known…"

He looked so pathetic, crying there at her kitchen table. But Arianna would never be able to forgive him. _I don't owe you any comfort_ , she thought savagely. _I don't owe you a single explanation_.

Apart from Dr. Wang and her therapist, Arianna hadn't told anyone else about the abortion. Not Ralph. Not even her father.

It was a heavy cross to bear. And now, she had dragged Jack with her all the way back to hell.

"I'm sorry I came here," Jack said, wiping his face on his forearm. He got up to leave before he lost it again.

Arianna couldn't believe him. "Is that all you can say?" she accused him. She wanted him to hurt as much as she did. "That you're sorry?"

"I never meant for any of this to happen!" he yelled.

"That's because you've never thought about anyone but yourself," Arianna shot back, unable to stop herself. "You say that you've changed, but you come here out of the blue, without any thought about what it would do to me. Have you ever thought, Jack," she went on scathingly, "Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I might never want to see you again?"

"Of course I did!" he bellowed. "Some days, I can't even look at myself in the mirror. So yeah, Arianna, I can understand where you're coming from."

His declaration hung heavy in the air between them. He stood there in her tiny kitchen, his chest heaving. Arianna didn't know what else to say.

"Just go, Jack," she told him.

Without another word, he brushed past her and stormed out the front door. Once she heard the door slam, she let the wail she had been holding in escape her. Immediately, she reached for her phone and called Ralph's number at West Point. He wouldn't be there yet, she knew. She just needed to hear his voice.

 _"Hi, you've reached Ralph. I'm not available to pick up the phone right now, so please leave a message and I'll get back as soon as I can."_

 _Beep._

Arianna tried to speak, but all that came out were uneven breaths. "H-hey, it's me," she sniffled into the phone. "I know you just left but I… Something's just happened. I-I can't…" She covered the receiver to muffle her sobs before continuing. "Something's happened. Please, just call me when you get a chance."

Then she hung up and flung the phone to the side. Suddenly, her apartment felt less like sanctuary and more like a jail cell.

 _Jack, you ruin everything_ , she cursed him mentally. Her body shook with silent cries. Every inch of her was screaming.

* * *

Jack Merridew trudged through down the street to the first bar he could find. The sidewalk was gray and slushy from the big snowstorm a few weeks back. Garbage bags were piled up alongside the curb. _Disgusting_ , he thought. He had always hated New York when he was younger. Now he had a new reason to.

He entered a stereotypical Irish pub and asked the bartender for their cheapest whiskey on the rocks. It was a bit early to start drinking but he didn't question it, and quickly poured out Jack's order. He downed it in a heartbeat and quickly asked for another.

"Bad day?" the bartender asked, sympathetic.

Jack let out a dry laugh. "You don't know the half of it."

He knew that coming here was a mistake. Perhaps, he had known the answer to his own question deep down. But he needed to see it for himself. Stare his own sins down in the eye.

He had been put through hell since coming back from the island, but nothing like what had happened to Arianna. Something like that would have destroyed another person. But no – not Arianna. Instead, she was starting a new life at a prestigious university in New York. Jack just had to swing by her newfound happiness and show his face.

Until he had seen the documentary on TV, any fear that Jack might have gotten Arianna pregnant had been put to bed when nine months had passed and he hadn't heard a single word from her. Of course, he hadn't been actively worrying about it. He just assumed… Well, he hadn't assumed a thing. Arianna was right. He was a selfish bastard and he hadn't changed a bit.

Arianna, despite everything that had happened, was going places. She was going to become someone that Jack could never have even aspired to be. Shortly after getting rescued, he had moved to Texas with his dad and stepmom, enrolled in a public school, and left his Academy days behind him. He tried to start a new life, miraculously finishing high school, but he had never made it to college. Instead, he'd moved up north to Maine, where he'd been working on a family friend's lobster boat for the past couple of years.

Lobster fishing was kind of like hunting, in a way. But Jack didn't get the same kind of satisfaction he used to get from seeing the life get seeped out of a lesser being. Instead, a good day's catch just meant you got to put food on the table. In Jack's case, anyway, it meant he could afford his booze.

He liked it – the manual labor, toiling on the docks, waking up at the crack of dawn and spending the rest of the day out on the open sea. Those weeks spent on the island had taught Jack not to be afraid of the water.

But Jack didn't really have a plan with is life. Never had. His father was disappointed with him, to say the least. You can blame it on the island trauma, or you can blame it on his parents' divorce, but maybe Jack was just born to be a screw up.

But for the past five years, he had been itching for a new start. That's why he was here, why he'd traded the California beaches and the Texan deserts for harsh northeastern winters. Maybe he thought the changing seasons would somehow make him come alive.

Jack didn't just come to find Arianna because he wanted the truth. Her father's words from the hospital ward still echoed in his ears: _he raped my daughter._ No matter what, he couldn't forget those words. He couldn't move past what he did. Not until he came to Arianna on his knees, just to her hear her say: "I forgive you."

Instead, he had made things worse. Arianna wouldn't accept any apologize from him for as long as she lived.

Above his bartender's head, the news was playing on the television. The CNN reporter was saying something about a recently detained criminal.

" _We have just received word that Roger Abernathy, age 20, has been taken into police custody…_ "

At the mention of Roger's name, Jack perked up and listened to the rest of the story. There he was, at the corner of the screen: the mug shot of Jack's former best friend, as well as his accomplice to murder.

The reporter went on, " _Abernathy has been linked to dozens of sexual assault cases all over Sacramento County. If convicted, he is likely to be sentenced to life in prison…_ "

"Dammit, Roger," Jack muttered to himself and took another sip of his whiskey. The island seemed to be alive and well today, with Roger's criminal activities once again making national news. He wasn't surprised with the path his old friend had taken in life. Even after they had gotten rescued, Roger continued to think as though they had never left the island.

Jack remembered the day they had been called in for an interrogation. They were trying to figure out exactly what happened to the missing boys, as well as who was responsible for what happened to Arianna.

Roger had been fidgeting aside him in the waiting room.

"Would you cut it out?" Jack had snapped at him.

"She's in there, ratting on us right now," Roger hissed back. "When she comes out, you better put that dumb bitch in her place."

At this, Jack had looked warily around the police station to make sure that nobody had heard. "Shut the fuck up," he whispered. "That's not how things work here and you know it."

With that, Jack had effectively ended their conversation – and their friendship. Once the investigation had been scrapped, he never saw Roger again.

But Jack wasn't Roger. He knew this, he had always known this. He thought back to what he had seen the news just then and vowed to himself that he was make things right.

He stayed at the bar for another hour, ordering enough drinks to give him the liquid courage he would need when he walked back to face Arianna. By the time he paid, the sun was already starting to set. It was nearly dinnertime.

He found his way back to Arianna's apartment and stood at her stoop for nearly fifteen minutes, trying to figure out what he was going to say. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

A light in the third floor window went on and Jack looked up to see who was there. He caught a glimpse of Arianna, staring out of her kitchen window. She looked so sad and lost. Jack got ready to ring the bell, praying to God that she would let him in and hear him out.

But then, in the window, he saw a dark-haired man come up behind her. He placed two comforting hands on her shoulders. Then he brushed her hair to the side and, even though Jack couldn't hear him, and knew exactly what he was saying: _It's okay. I'm here for you_.

Arianna turned to embrace the man, and that's when Jack got a good look at his face. It couldn't be…

 _Ralph?_

Even though it had been years, Jack still recognized him. After Roger's segment on CNN, Ralph's presence in Arianna's apartment could be added to the day's string of coincidences. Of course Ralph and Arianna were together now, he thought to himself bitterly. Of fucking course.

Jack saw the way Ralph wrapped his arms around Arianna. The embrace of a protector, a lover – the kind of guy that Jack could never hope to be.

There was no way he could come up now. He turned around and walked a couple blocks downtown before hailing a cab, his cheeks red with shame.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked.

Where _was_ he going? He had to think about it for a second.

"Penn Station," he answered, and then spent the rest of the cab ride staring out the window as New York City passed him by.

He thought back to Arianna's confession. For the first time, he imagined a different life for himself – with Arianna and the baby. A long lost opportunity to prove himself worthy of her and to make up everything that he had done.

Jack decided that he was no longer going to let to island define him. To allow the life he was living to be damned by this alternate reality. What if the plane had never been crashed? What if Arianna had kept the baby? What if? What if?

He told himself that he _was_ going somewhere. Heaven or hell, he couldn't be sure. He wasn't Roger, he knew that. But he wasn't Ralph either. The island was behind all of them now, and Jack couldn't know where he was going until he figured out for himself what kind of guy he wanted to be.

Outside the window, it had started to snow again. A thin sheet of white masking the slush and the debris on the ground below. The sight of it brought a smile to Jacks' face. Where was he going? Something told him that he had the rest of his life to find the answer to that question.

 _Fin._

* * *

A/N: That concludes the Dirty Game/Clean Slate saga - for now. I've invested so much into Arianna Lovejoy's story that I'm reluctant to let it go just yet. If you'd like to stay tuned for any future LoTF stories I may put out, please don't hesitate to add me to your Author Alerts. For my readers and reviewers, thank you so much for your continued support along the way! This truly has been a labor of love, and I hope that you've enjoyed it. Again, don't hesitate to leave a review or get in touch. I value your thoughts more than anything and I look forward to your feedback.

Until next time,

~CocoSushi~


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